


stillness with a side of vampire

by haikyuuseme (mysoulrunswithwolves)



Series: love-bites and legwarmers [23]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-22 01:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12470068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysoulrunswithwolves/pseuds/haikyuuseme
Summary: There’s a kind of stillness that comes right after a storm.It’s like the world doesn’t know how to react to the devastation that’s been wreaked across the surface of the earth, and everything is waiting in breathless anticipation to see if the destruction has passed or if it’s simply gearing up for a second pass.Koushi wakes, and the whole world is still.alternatively: they deal with the aftermath of a stormtoday in love-bites and legwarmers: Cuddles, curry, and a healthy dose of reality





	stillness with a side of vampire

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd as hecc because I wrote most of this at work today lolz #adulting

There’s a kind of stillness that comes right after a storm. 

It’s like the world doesn’t know how to react to the devastation that’s been wreaked across the surface of the earth, and everything is waiting in breathless anticipation to see if the destruction has passed or if it’s simply gearing up for a second pass.  

Koushi wakes, and the whole world is still.

The first thing Koushi processes when he wakes is Akaashi’s tight hold on him. Akaashi’s warm skin is pressed against his back, one arm under Koushi’s head and the other holding tightly around his stomach. Koushi breathes deeply, reveling in the feeling and comfort of having Akaashi close, of being secure in his arms.

The second thing Koushi processes is that they’re in his room and judging by the suspicious holes in his memory he wasn’t aware of the exact moment when Akaashi brought them here. He  _does_  remember doing some fairly obscene things on Oikawa’s bed, though. He makes a mental note to ask Akaashi if he is correct in thinking that someone came in and saw them or if he was just really, really high. Judging by his lack of hangover, he’s guessing it’s the former.  

He can feel the gentle puffs of air at the nape of his neck that signify that Akaashi’s still deep asleep but beyond that slight sound, there’s nothing. 

The house is still.

He shifts beneath the covers and the rustle of skin against cloth sounds like rolling thunder in the preternatural quiet of the house. It’s a Saturday morning—late morning, his brain supplies when he finally opens his eyes to the winter light streaming through his curtains—and while the house isn’t usually  _loud,_  it certainly is never this quiet. 

And then the gaps in his memory start to fill. He remembers being woken up by Daichi in the middle of the night, being drug out of bed and Akaashi’s arms to help with a situation. He remembers pressing a hot cup of coffee into a numb Tsukishima’s hands. He remembers the look on Tsukishima’s face when he’d whispered, ‘it’s over’ into his mug.

He remembers his heart breaking, just a little, when he realized what Tsukishima meant. 

“Holy shit,” Koushi whispers into the bright light of a new day. He understands the stillness. 

It’s the wake of a storm. 

“Babe, wake up.” Koushi rolls over in Akaashi’s arms and begins poking him in the chest.

Akaashi whines and squeezes his eyes shut. “It’s too early for this.”

“Just look at me.”

Akaashi shakes his head. “We both know that if I open my eyes you’re going to charm me into thinking I don’t need to sleep longer and I  _do_ , love, I  _do._  I’m surprised you were awake after being woken up several times last night.”

“It was only once, don’t be so dramatic, Keiji.” Koushi nuzzles into his neck, intent on coaxing Akaashi up with cuddles instead of the power of his pout. 

“I think you and I remember last night very differently,” Akaashi mutters, tucking Koushi in closer and placing a soft kiss against his forehead. “You don’t remember Kuroo showing up?”

Koushi puzzles over that for a minute and jolts as the memories come flooding back. He remembers hissing at Kuroo to go away, his need to protect Tsukishima rising with a speed he had rarely experienced before. 

He remembers everyone showing up to protect their poor, heartbroken Tsukki and feels his own heart break, just a little, for Tsukishima. “Kuroo is dead to me.”

Akaashi jerks awake from the doze he’d slipped into. “Hmmm? Oh, yeah. He definitely fucked up, that’s for sure. More than usual, too.”

“Do you think he’s okay? Tsukki, I mean.”

Akaashi shrugs. “Would you be okay?”

Koushi curls back against him, not needing to voice the answer they both know.

No, he wouldn’t. Not at all.

***

When Koutarou wakes up he’s naked, in a room that isn’t his, and doesn’t remember anything about the night before or how he got where he is.

There’s also an arm around his waist and a very warm body pressed against his back. He feels like he’s been here before. 

He has been here before, and relaxes because the last time he was here it got him a boyfriend so this can’t be that bad. He relaxes into the pillow and closes his eyes.

His boyfriend. Terushima.

He can’t be sure but he’s pretty sure that the person in bed with him isn’t Terushima because he doesn’t remember this room and he  _cannot_  believe he’s in this situation. He sits up suddenly, dislodging the arm around his waist as he starts to move away. 

“Don’t go,” a sleep-rough voice murmurs into a pillow.

“I’m sorry I have to go I have a boyfriend,” Koutarou blurts without looking at the person behind him, like if he doesn’t actually see them the reality of what he’s done won’t matter. “I’m sure you’re really great but I love my boyfriend and would never do something to hurt him.”

There’s a moment of silence, then, “You love me?”

Koutarou looks over his shoulder, popping his spine with the suddenness and angle of the turn. Terushima is squinting at him in the early afternoon sunlight, a faint smile on his lips as he raises his hand to smooth up and down the skin of Koutarou’s back. 

Koutarou collapses back against the sheets in relief. “I thought I’d gone home with someone who wasn’t you when I was super drunk last night and I was so worried.”

Terushima plants a kiss to his shoulder. “That’s because when I found you, it was to see you doing your last keg stand like General Custer. It’s no wonder you don’t have a memory of last night.” 

Koutarou shifts so that Terushima is curled up against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around Terushima.

“But let’s get back to the more important matter: you love me?”

Koutarou hadn’t intended for Terushima to find out in this way, but since it’s out and he heard Koutarou, he figures may as well own up to it. “Yeah, I do. And I know it’s soon and overwhelming, so you don’t have to say it back yet.” Koutarou is perfectly aware that he falls hard and fast, but he hopes he doesn’t scare Terushima away. 

“I’m not ready to say it back yet,” Terushima says, placing another kiss to Koutarou’s collarbone, “but I really, really like you. I’m getting there.”

Koutarou nuzzles into Terushima’s blond locks and scratches his fingers through the undercut at the nape of his neck. “That’s okay. This is enough for me. You make me happy.”

Koutarou feels Terushima smile against his skin. “You make me happy too.”

***

Kenma is warm. So warm and comfortable, in fact, that opening his eyes is the last thing he wants to do. But the sun is trying its hardest to stab his eyes through his eyelids because  _someone_ left the blinds open in the living room last night and—

Wait. 

Why is he sleeping in the living room? His bedroom is dark and quiet and  _much_  better than the living room, so why is he being assaulted by the sun instead of safely cocooned in his blankets downstairs in the warm darkness?

An arm tightens around his waist and he thinks  _oh._

Yaku. 

Memories from the party last night come flooding back in a rush. They’d stayed up talking and Kenma had fallen asleep at some point. Yaku must have stayed instead of going home. They’re both molded into the lovesac by now, and Kenma is pretty sure he can’t feel his right foot anymore, but it’s warm and comfortable so there’s no reason for him to bother moving. 

Not that Kenma’s complaining. Yaku is quiet and warm and he  _listens_  to what Kenma has to say and he cares. Kenma is used to other people taking from him. His friends all rely on him to be steady and tranquil, a listening ear for them to air out their woes to and offer them advice when needed. 

Kenma is fine with that. He’s used to it and enjoys it to some extent. But there’s something about having somebody else be there for him that he hadn’t realized he needed until Yaku showed up into his life with easy smiles and warm hands. 

It’s easy to decide to keep Yaku, if he’ll agree to stay. Kenma likes him and wants him to stay. Unless he says otherwise, Kenma is set on making Yaku his for as long as Yaku will allow it.

The front door slams open, startling Yaku awake and making Kenma flinch because what right does Kuroo have to make that much noise this early in the morning? Kuroo stands in the doorway, panting, looking like he hasn’t slept all night.

He stands in the doorway for a moment before his eyes fall on Kenma. “Kenma, I need your help.”

Kenma rolls his eyes because  _really_ , the only reason for a vampire to slam open a door is for dramatic effect since vampires have this really neat trick that allows them to vanish to  _wherever they want_ without bothering with doors. “What is it now, you giant drama queen?”

Yaku hides a snort into the back of Kenma’s shoulder. 

Kuroo barely spares a glance at Yaku as he slams the door shut and makes his way over to Kenma, collapsing on the floor at their feet in a haphazard sprawl. “I fucked up.”

“How?” Kenma asks. It’s an important question because Kuroo has a habit of screwing up his life in insane bouts of self-sabotage. Kuroo thinks he makes poor life choices. Kenma thinks it’s that and that fact that Kuroo doesn’t think he deserves love. 

Kuroo cuts a glance toward Yaku. “Shouldn’t he be home by now? Party’s over.”

Yaku moves as if to get up, so Kenma traps the arm he has around his waist with his own hand and keeps him in place. “He’s here because I want him here,” Kenma says quietly, narrowing his eyes back at Kuroo. “He’s mine. You’re the one who wanted to talk to me.”

Kuroo lets out a gusty sigh. “I fucked things up with Tsukishima. His housemates won’t even let me in to talk to him. He’s not answering my calls or texts either.”

“Who’s not answering your texts?” Oikawa asks coming into the room, a yawning Iwaizumi stumbling after him and making a beeline for the coffee maker. 

“Tsukishima,” Kuroo repeats. 

“What did you do,” Oikawa says sharply, leveling a glare at Kuroo. “Please tell me you didn’t ruin that boy.”

Kuroo’s face is enough of an answer. 

“I can’t believe you. I thought you cared about him. Kuroo, what did you  _do?”_  Oikawa keeps sputtering out words like he doesn’t know where to start. “The kid was smitten with you. We covered with you over the whole Daishou thing, so I know it’s not that.” He absently takes the mug of coffee Iwaizumi hands him. “You owe us big time for that, by the way. You’re an asshole.”

“What did you do, Tetsurou,” Iwaizumi intones steadily, in the kind of voice that reminds Kenma why he’s the one who actually runs this house. Oikawa falls silent and sips at his coffee, leaning against Iwaizumi and glaring at Kuroo over the rim of his glasses. 

“Are you sure I should be here?” Yaku whispers into Kenma’s ear. “I feel like this is none of my business.”

Kenma doesn’t answer him, just pulls him closer because he has every intention of keeping Yaku for as long as he’ll stay, so he may as well get used to their craziness now. 

“He may have seen me with Semi and Tendou,” Kuroo confesses at the exact moment that Bokuto walks through the door.

“Ex-fucking-scuse me?” Bokuto freezes so fast that Terushima slams into his back when he stops unexpectedly in the doorway. 

“Kuroo fucked up,” Oikawa says dryly, summing everything up. “Again.”

Bokuto finally recovers enough to move into the house, Terushima behind him. “Worse than when you kissed me over winter break?”

That’s news to Kenma. 

“Yes, Bo,” Kuroo snaps. “Worse than that.”

“Hey, don’t snap at me,” Bokuto fires back. “I’m not the one too selfish to see when I’m doing something that’s going to hurt the people I love.”

Kuroo sits up, taking in all of their expressions. “Is that what you all think of me?”

“I mean,” Oikawa starts slowly, “you’re not exactly one to think about the feelings of others.”

Kuroo looks at all of them steadily for a moment before turning to Kenma, who is still very comfortable with Yaku snuggled around him. He thinks Yaku might actually be dozing again. 

“Kenma, what do you think?”

Kenma levels Kuroo with a steady gaze and tilts his head in thought, weighing his words before he speaks. “I think you’re inconsiderate at best, and intentionally selfish at worst.” 

Kuroo flinches from the bluntness, eyes going wide with shock. “Even you?”

“Out of everyone in this room,” Kenma says steadily, “I’m the one whose opinion should matter most. We grew up together.” Kuroo looks at him with hurt eyes and Kenma sighs, settling in to explain. “You do what you want, Kuro.”

Kuroo blinks. “Yes, but I always have. How is that a surprise.”

“It’s not.” Kenma pinches the bridge of his nose, summoning patience. “But when you’ve always done whatever you want without any regard for the feelings of others, you’re going to end up hurting everyone you care about. It’s selfish and you’re going to drive everyone you love away unless you can show you care about them as much as or more than you care about yourself.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Kenma say that much at once,” Terushima says in a stage whisper to Bokuto that they all hear. 

“What do I do?” Kuroo asks after a long moment, looking stricken.

“You need to decide what you truly want,” Oikawa says, slinging an arm around Iwaizumi’s waist. “And once you know, you need to do everything to prove you want it.”

“I want Tsukki,” Kuroo says, without hesitation. “He’s all I want.”

“You’ve got a shit way of showing it.” Bokuto doesn’t spare a glance at Kuroo. “You need to think about your actions, Kuroo.”

“Tsukishima isn’t going to forgive you easily,” Iwaizumi warns. “Getting him to trust you again is going to be a long, slow process.”

“All you can do is show how sorry you are and hope he’s willing to forgive you.”

Kuroo collapses back onto the floor and moans while the rest of them either vanish from the room or drag their human companions away from the wallowing that’s sure to follow.

“Where are we going?” Yaku yawns into his hand, stumbling after Kenma.

“To get some actual sleep,” Kenma replies, right before collapsing on his bed and wrapping himself around Yaku when he lies down next to him. “I hate being woken up by noisy people first thing.”

Yaku hums softly and Kenma lets the sound relax him until he’s drifting into sleep to the tune of Yaku’s breathing. 

***

Shouyou wakes up with one of the worst headaches he’s ever had in his nineteen years of life. 

Not even Kageyama’s broad chest pressed against his back can make it better, and that’s a sensation that always makes waking up pleasant. That, and the broad hand splayed over his bare hip. 

But the sunlight is streaming through his window, prompting him to stumble out of the warm cocoon of sheets and close the blinds, wondering why they’d stumbled into his room and not the blissful dark that Kageyama’s blackout curtains provide. 

As he slips back between the sheets, the events from last night come back in hazy, fragmented chunks. He remembers bits and pieces, remembers being woken up an hour after going to bed to a yelling Kuroo, remembers the slight sting of Kageyama's bite in the seconds before they'd both come after sloppy handjobs. 

His mind rewinds, lingers on the memory of dancing with Kageyama in a house that wasn't theirs and watching Kuroo kiss someone who wasn't Tsukishima and  _oh._  Yeah, that could explain some things.

"Babe," he hisses, poking Kageyama in the ribs in an effort to wake him up. Kageyama doesn't so much as  _twitch_  in his sleep. "Babe, we got  _super_ wasted last night and also I think Tsukki and Kuroo broke up but I can't be sure because my memory is shady as fuck right now." He pokes Kageyama again, insistently. "Wake up and help me remember."

Kageyama slits one eye open to glare at him. "You were super wasted." It's a statement that confuses Shouyou.

"Yes, I just said that," Shouyou replies, trying not to roll his eyes and aggravate his headache any more than he has to. 

"I fed from you last night," Kageyama states, like that's the end of it, like his point is obvious. 

It's not. Not at all, and Shouyou is more confused than ever as to why Kageyama keeps stating the obvious and expecting Shouyou to magically know what he's implying. "You feed from me every few nights, how was last night any different?"

Kageyama sighs like the world is ending and rolls over to face the wall, turning his back to Shouyou. "Because you were high enough to make a horse stumble and I  _drank from you._  Anything you're feeling right now? I guarantee it's twice as worse for me."

Shouyou laughs really, really hard, and it's completely worth the throb his skull gives to see Kageyama's outraged face. "I'm sorry baby," he coos, wrapping himself around Kageyama from behind. "Let me kiss it better."

"I hate you," Kageyama says tonelessly, without any heat to the words. 

"Nah," Shouyou replies, confident. "You really don't."

When Shouyou finally stumbles down into the kitchen, it's well into the afternoon. There are still cups scattered around the room, half-empty bottles of liquor lined up on the counter, but right now he needs  _food,_ and something smells delicious. 

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Suga is beaming as he stirs a pot of curry, his grey hair ruffled and looking freshly clean from a shower. "Food will be ready in a few minutes, take a seat." Suga points to the table and Shouyou dutifully heads for a chair. 

"Where's Akaashi?"

Suga rolls his eyes. "He went back to his house an hour ago to deal with Kuroo."

"What exactly happened last night?"

Shouyou turns around as Noya and Asahi stagger into the room, falling into chairs at the table with Shouyou. 

"Did Kuroo and Tsukki break up?" Noya continues, ruffling Shouyou's hair and making grabby hands at the mug of coffee Asahi procures for him. 

Suga squints into the curry. "I think so? I'm not exactly sure what happened though. My memory of last night is hazy at best."

"It was Kuroo's fault, I know that," Daichi informs, walking into the kitchen fully dressed and looking like he's the only one without a hangover. He checks the timer on the rice. "I tried to keep things from getting out of hand, but I’m afraid I failed this time."

"Nobody expected you to save Kuroo from himself, Dai," Suga says softly. "Not even Kenma can do that, according to Akaashi."

"So, what do we know?" Noya asks after taking a long gulp of coffee. "Does anyone know what happened?"

"I saw him kissing someone who looked like Suga," Shouyou blurts without thinking. Everyone in the room looks at Suga. 

He puts his hands up defensively. "Don't look at me, I was with Akaashi all night."

"Don't remind me," Daichi says, shuddering. Then, after a moment of thought, "Was that Semi, then?"

Shouyou scrunches his nose up and thinks. "Maybe? Kageyama and I somehow ended up at VAA last night and that's where I saw this happening."

Daichi nods. "That would fit. Last I heard Oikawa and Iwaizumi had lost Kuroo and saw Tsukki headed towards that house."

Suga stirs the curry viciously. "He must have caught Kuroo cheating. What a dick." Shouyou has never seen someone cook curry so furiously before. "I can't believe him."

The rice cooker beeps. 

"Is that food?" 

They all turn to the sound of Tsukishima's voice echoing softly through the room. He's peeking his head around the doorway, looking remarkably normal and calm. 

"Yeah," Daichi says, grabbing a bowl and scooping steaming rice into it before Suga laddles curry over it. "Want some?" He holds out the bowl to Tsukishima hesitantly, like he'll break if Daichi moves to suddenly. 

Tsukishima hums quietly and sits down at the table, Asahi handing him a pair of chopsticks to eat with. He tucks into his food, oblivious or uncaring as they all watching him eat. 

Akaashi chooses this exact moment to appear in the room, making them all jump as he wraps his arms around Suga from behind and plants a kiss to his neck, right over a fresh bite mark. "Smells good, babe."

Suga settles back into Akaashi, and smiles. The room slowly stutters back into motion as Daichi starts dumping rice into more bowls and Suga begins dishing out curry, making sure they each have a bowl of hot food before leaning against the counter next to Akaashi and eating his own. 

Everyone watches Tsukishima, trying (and probably failing, Shouyou thinks) to be subtle enough for him not to notice. 

There's very few things Tsukishima doesn't notice.

"I’m fine," Tsukishima says wearily. "You can stop looking at me like I'm going to break. I'm not. I'm fine."

"We know," Suga says immediately, reassuring and composed. "But we're still allowed to worry."

Tsukishima sighs like this whole thing is the most vexing thing he's ever had to deal with—rich, Shouyou thinks, considering he dated Kuroo. "Worry away then. I can't stop you." He gets up, putting his mostly empty bowl in the sink and trudging back down the basement at to his room.

Nobody says anything after he leaves, but Suga does lean against Akaashi to rest his head on his shoulder, a frown tweaking his lips into a downward pout. 

Shouyou has a feeling he's going to be seeing that expression on Suga's face for a while. 

 ***

With his stomach full of warm curry, Kei finally lets himself think about what happened last night. 

It's funny, really, how Kuroo had stripped down all of Kei's walls with the sheer force of his personality, until everything Kei did and felt was a result of Kuroo showing him how great it was to care about something. Even now, Kei knows that Kuroo has changed the way he thinks, the way he acts, and somehow he's okay with that. 

Kei is heartbroken—for the first time in his life—and it's not a feeling he wants to repeat often, but he also recognizes that just because Kuroo has ruined this thing between him, the feelings he's been saddled with are far from gone. 

It almost makes it worse, really, that Kuroo cheated on him and broke his heart and Kei can't help but love him still. 

Kei had let himself cry for exactly fifteen minutes before he stopped himself. He won't ever admit that he did, and the only witness to his temporary weakness was Yachi's fucking psychotic cat Elmo and last he checked, Elmo couldn't talk. 

When Kuroo appears directly in his room, Kei isn't even surprised. He's been expecting this tactic since he woke up this morning. 

"What," he snaps, pleased when Kuroo is startled by his apparent readiness to have this talk. 

"Tsukki, I'm so sorry," he pleads, dropping to his knees in front of Kei. "I've fucked up and hurt you, but I wish I could take it back and I want to fix things." He wrings his hands, and Kei can't remember ever seeing Kuroo this distraught before. He feels a grim sort of satisfaction and doesn't feel guilty at all over it. "Tell me how to fix things. Tell me how to make it up to you."

Well.

Kei had been expecting a lot of things when Kuroo finally apologized, but he hadn't expected this. He's silent for a long moment, letting Kuroo sweat it out while he mulls over Kuroo's words. He already knows he's going to give Kuroo another chance. As much as he despises himself slightly for how weak he is, he can't help that he's in love with him. He can't help but want it to work. 

It doesn't mean he forgives Kuroo yet. Not by a long shot. Kei is self-aware enough to know that he's petty as fuck and he's going to make Kuroo  _grovel_ for months before he forgives him. If Kuroo can manage to stick around long enough to prove that he really means it, Kei will think about taking him back. 

"Prove it," he says into the tense quiet. 

"What?" Kuroo asks, taken aback. Whatever he'd expected Kei to respond with, it clearly wasn't with measured and calm words. 

But Kei has been thinking about this all night, preparing for this conversation, and he knows what he wants to do. "I said," he repeats, "prove it. Prove to me how sorry you are. Prove to me that you can stick around, that I'm not just a convenient fuck and a food source and then, maybe, I'll forgive you."

Kuroo gapes at him for a second before closing his mouth with a click of his teeth. "Yes, anything. I'll do anything."

Kei nods, once, before making a shooing motion. "Go. I don't want to see you again yet. I'll let you know when I'm ready to start spending time with you again."

Kuroo looks like he wants to say something—he never did know when to stop talking—but one stern look from Kei has him vanishing without further protest, and Kei flops back onto his bed in relief. 

He has no idea what he's doing or how he's going to survive this without destroying himself even more.

It's his own fault, he supposes, for falling in love with a hurricane.

**Author's Note:**

> wowowow what a trip it's been. I've fallen deep into kpop fandom hell but her I am, with another long awaited update. Thanks for your patience. I still love these boys, and I know how this is gonna end so buckle in. We've got the epilogue left and then it's done. 
> 
> next time in love-bites and legwarmers: the epilogue
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://mysoulrunswithwolves.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/_xKikix)


End file.
